


Landscape

by Tommykaine



Series: Hang the DJ [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13497066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: Narcissa was trying her best to act as if everything was normal, also for the sake of their son, but she barely recognized the man in front of her at times.Lucius had never been the same since he was released from Azkaban. He was quieter, forgetful and easily distracted. He didn't look at her with the same eyes, in fact he barely dared to meet her gaze at all. He had to be reminded to eat, and even then, most of the food would be left in his plate by the end of it.But what she fould most unnerving was the way he would often stare into nothingness, lost in thought for so long that one would have thought he was petrified, if not for the slight movement of his chest indicating he was breathing.It made her want to scream.---After the events of the Wizarding War, Narcissa struggles to keep the family together while Lucius grows more and more distant.Sometimes, a secret can be so powerful and terrible that it can destroy everything...





	Landscape

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 8th edition of the COW-T by LandeDiFandom, for the prompt “Landscape Florence + The Machine”

Cause it's burning through the bloodline  
It's cutting down the family tree   
Growing in the landscape, darling, in between you and me

-

 [Landscape Florence + The Machine]

 

 

“Lucius, you've barely touched your dinner... are you unwell?”

Narcissa's voice cut through the silence, startling her husband. His fork quickly moved down to stab the steak in his plate before he cut down a second piece.

“I'm just tired, that's all”, he replied dryly, his lips stretching into a forced smile.

The woman looked at him, doubt written all over her face, but she just held back a sigh and smiled back, as silence fell on the room again.

She almost felt suffocated by it.

 

Narcissa was trying her best to act as if everything was normal, also for the sake of their son, but she barely recognized the man in front of her at times.

Lucius had never been the same since he was released from Azkaban. He was quieter, forgetful and easily distracted. He didn't look at her with the same eyes, in fact he barely dared to meet her gaze at all. He had to be reminded to eat, and even then, most of the food would be left in his plate by the end of it.

But what she fould most unnerving was the way he would often stare into nothingness, lost in thought for so long that one would have thought he was petrified, if not for the slight movement of his chest indicating he was breathing.

It made her want to scream.

 

After the Wizarding War, the Malfoys had lost a lot of their influence and prestige. This was both due to the fact that associating with someone who had been involved with the Dark Lord was very inconvenient publicity, and because Lucius had betrayed many of his fellow companions to save his own skin and avoid arrest.

Narcissa understood that this was quite a blow for her husband, even more than for her. He felt unworthy of his name, like he had brought shame to his ancestors. She sometimes woke up to find him sobbing, but didn't dare to say a word to try and make him feel better. She knew her sympathy would just humiliate him further, so she forced herself to keep her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. The few times she had tried to reach out to him he'd pushed her off of him and stormed off, leaving her to clench her fists and grit her teeth to keep herself from running after him.

 

She played the part of the good wife well, especially in public. She spoke of him fondly, locked arms with him when he would forget to, and pretended to not hear the gossip nor the snide comments when he wasn't around, flashing her coldest smile.

She tried not to think of how the man would barely touch her anymore, laying on his side of the bed in silence, not even sleeping, just staring into nothing for hours. She had tried taking the initiative, with little success. Lucius would just stop mid-way, unable to keep it up, dryly apologizing to her for his inadequacy before getting up and getting dressed again, storming out of the room to go sulk in his study. She would find him there the next day, sleeping on his chair, and silently pick up the empty bottles of Firewhiskey laying around him as to not wake him up.

She wished she could have brought herself not to be angry at him for this, but it was hard to hold back her resentment when Lucius didn't even seem to want to make an attempt to communicate. He seemed to have resigned himself to his own misery, and this drove Narcissa mad. She wanted to shake him and yell him that he was resembling the man she had married less and less every day, and that she wanted that man back. She even found herself having to hold back from slapping him in anger, which made her feel disgusted with herself.

 

Sometimes, she would entertain the idea of just leaving Lucius to his own devices, but then she thought of Draco.

The boy had turned into a young man by now, old enough to marry and form a family of his own, which Lucius often pointed out.

Yet, something in the events of the War had changed him, too.

When once he talk of his future with excitement, imagining himself to be as successful and powerful as his father used to be, now he did his best to avoid the topic, insisting that it was not something he wanted to think about just then. He seemed hesitant at the idea of leaving his parents behind, even fearful. He didn't trust any of his former friends, so he didn't look for their company anymore, spending instead most of his days in their Manor following his father around like a lost puppy.

As much as Narcissa hated to admit it, she knew Draco would not come with her if she were to leave.

 

Her son had always been incredibly attached to his father, always wanting to make him proud and trying to emulate him as much as possible, but now this had reached a ridiculous extent.

He would often just follow him in his study as the older man sorted his paperwork, sitting next to him and watching him work for hours, without saying a word. Lucius seemed as uncomfortable about it as his wife was, but he tolerated his presence most of the time.

“Don't you have... anything better to do?”, she heard Lucius say at some point, snapping at him.

Draco didn't even look too perturbed by his reaction.

“You don't want me here?”, he asked, with the slightest tinge of sadness in his voice.

“...I didn't say that”, sighed Lucius, turning back to look at his papers.

“We could go shop for robes”, she proposed as she entered the room, placing a cup of tea and a plate of scones on the man's desk as she leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Draco grimaced. “I have more than enough already”.

 _Yet you never use any of them_ , she thought, holding herself back from saying it out loud.

“Well, I'd still like to get some for myself, and would be glad if you accompanied me”, she insisted, hoping her irritation didn't seep into her voice.

“I'd rather just stay here”, replied Draco, sighing when she couldn't stop her disappointment to show on her face. “Please, mother”.

“Fine. I'm going alone then”, she said, forcing herself to smile and moving towards her husband again, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her smile almost faltered when she felt him stiffen under her touch. “Don't let the tea get cold, dear.”

“Thank you. Have a good time”, said Lucius, without even raising his head.

She almost scoffed.

 _Yeah, right_.

 

“We have to talk about Draco”, she told Lucius one day, moving towards him to hold him from behind. She still pretended not to notice the way he would tense up whenever she touched him.

“What about him?”, he asked, too coldly and abruptly to sound convincing, keeping his eyes down on the book he was reading as if he didn't even want to acknowledge her presence.

“Oh don't play dumb with me Lucius. You know very well what I mean.”, she snapped, releasing him from her embrace and walking right up to him, snatching the book out of his grasp.

She had had enough of his attitude. She could only play along and pretend that all was fine for so long. It was driving her mad.

“I really don't”, he insisted. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, holding back a scream.

“Fine then, be that way.”, she hissed. “If you're gonna pretend nothing is wrong, you could at least do it well. You can't even do that much!” her voice faltered as she started crying, unable to contain her frustration. “You can't even look at me anymore!”

Lucius looked up at her for a second, looking like he was about to say something, but then he just lowered his gaze again.

“What is it, Lucius? _Speak up!_ ”, she ordered, her tone so angry it almost turned into a growl.

“I'm sorry...”, he whispered, his voice full of shame.

In another occasion, she would have felt sorry for him.

But not now. Not anymore.

“Is that all?”, she asked, “Is that _really_ all you can say?”

Lucius shrugged. “I don't know what else you want from me”.

“No, Lucius, I don't know what _you_ want from me!”, she barked at him, putting her hands in her hair. “I don't know what to do anymore!” she yelled “You won't sleep with me, you won't come with me anywhere anymore, you won't talk to me, and- oh for Merlin's sake, Lucius, _look at me!_ ”

The man's gaze raised again, his grey eyes filled with fatigue.

“Do you think this is easy for me?”, he asked, “You have no idea...”

That was the last straw.

Her hand flew across his face, the sound of flesh hitting flesh resonating in the room.

Her eyes widened as she realized just what she had done, taking a step back from the man, who just stared back at her with a resigned expression. He almost looked as if _he_ was feeling guilty.

Before she could even think of what to say, how to explain herself, the sound of hastily paced footsteps interrupted the silence as Draco stormed into the room, putting himself between her and Lucius.

“What are you doing to father!?”, he yelled, his whole body shaking in anger.

“I... Draco, I...”, she stammered, her already pale face growing even whiter.

“ _GET OUT!_ ”

His hands closed on her wrists, pushing her backwards with such momentum that she almost tripped on her feet as she was forced out of the room. She was too stunned to even fight back, she could just stare in disbelief as her son pushed her outside and slammed the door shut, standing there speechless.

She didn't even know what to think, her mind unable to process what had just happened, what _she_ had just done. She had never seen him like this before. She had never seen _herself_ act like that before, either.

“Father, are you hurt?”, she heard him ask, a deep concern clearly audible in his voice.

She didn't hear Lucius's words, if he even said any, but she could hear him sobbing, and Draco's soothing tone as he consoled him, making her blood boil in her veins again.

She turned around, her angry footsteps echoing loudly in the corridor as she all but ran back to her bedroom, her heart filled with jealousy.

 

Narcissa didn't know what to think anymore.

She felt like she was growing increasingly paranoid as each day went on, her mind in disarray.

She couldn't help the twinge in her stomach every time she caught Draco getting close to her husband, putting his hands on him and whispering quietly, too quietly for her to hear. Sometimes she heard him chuckle, and had the most irrational feeling that he was _laughing at her_ , almost taunting her.

She wished she could stop reading too much into the way Lucius would avoid spending time with her after their argument, barely even speaking to her anymore, but never seemed to have any problem with allowing his son to follow him around like a shadow.

She didn't know what to do. She wanted to talk to Lucius, but he wouldn't let her, and she couldn't entirely blame him. As if that wasn't enough, Draco would glare at her every time he saw her get near to his father, butting in at every occasion whenever his parents were alone, as if to make sure she wasn't going to hit him again.

She wished she could go back to just ignoring the problem, still clinging on to the hope that they could patch their family back together in some way.

 

 

Her hopes were finally crushed, less than two months later.

She felt so stupid for not having listened to her gut feelings.

She had been right, she had been right _all along_ , and still, she couldn't believe her eyes.

She'd just gotten back from a social function, which Lucius was supposed to attend with her, but of course he'd found some excuse to decline.

She was walking up to the bedroom to get changed, when she noticed the room to the study was open.

She stopped in her tracks. Lucius _never_ left the door open, even when he was completely alone.

Something wasn't right.

Slowly, she moved towards the room with a stealthy step, a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach as her hand closed on the handle, pushing the door open as carefully as possible so as to not make a sound.

Then, she'd stepped inside, freezing on the spot.

Lucius was resting on the desk, sound asleep, atop a pile of papers. His fingers were still closed around his quill, the ink slightly staining his index.

Draco was leaning down on him, stroking his hair, looking at him with a fondness he had never reserved for his mother. Slowly, as if he was afraid of waking him, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against Lucius's, his eyes closed in bliss.

Narcissa just stood there, seething, a blind rage building up inside her.

“What are you doing?”, she spat out, making his son jump up in panic.

He looked at her as if she had just caught him with his hand in a jar of candy, hiding behind the still-sleeping figure.

She didn't even stop to think. She just acted.

The sound of antique china breaking rouse Lucius from his sleep. Narcissa barely heard his footsteps coming for her, her hands still pressing down on Draco's throat, tighter and tighter, as her son clawed at her arms to try and break free.

“Stupefy!”

She was sent flying across the room, her face hitting the floor so hard that she tasted blood.

The last thing she saw before losing her senses was Lucius cradling Draco into his arms, gently stroking his hair. He didn't even look at her for one second.

As she slipped into unconsciousness, the shame and guilt budding inside her were nipped by that sight, morphing into a cold resentment.

 

 

Narcissa was laying awake in their bed, feigning her sleep as she waited.

It had been weeks since she had started to wake up alone, her husband nowhere to be seen.

She had tried asking him, but Lucius just looked away and mumbled something about waking up early. For a while, he would once again be there in the morning, but she wasn't gonna brush off her suspicions again. Not this time.

She had almost started to drift off to sleep when she felt him stir beside her, the mattress creaking as he sat up, slowly, before carefully slipping out of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible.

She used all of her willpower not to jump up and stop him, clenching her fists so tightly that her carefully manicured nails were cutting into her palms, almost tightly enough to draw blood. The pain helped her to stay focused, listening to the sound of the other's footsteps, to the slight squeak of the handle as it was turned and the sound of the door closing against the frame again.

She knew he would just have found some excuse if were to run after him to confront him now. She didn't even know what she had hoped to achieve by doing this, maybe just the comfort of knowing she was not going insane. Not yet, at least.

She didn't look at him even once during breakfast, trying to hold back her glares as Draco encouraged Lucius to eat in her stead, her heart sinking as she saw him actually make an effort, for a change.

She didn't know how long she could take it before she would snap, but she felt like it was only a matter of time at this point.

 

It only took another week for her resolve to break down.

She waited once again for him to leave the bed, her heart beating so loud she was sure he was bound to notice, thwarting her plans on the spot.

Once she felt him leave the room, she took a deep breath and forced herself to stay still. She waited until she was sure he must have been far along on his way by then, before throwing the bedsheets off from herself and getting up to follow him, hoping with all of herself that her instincts were lying to her this time.

She was gonna find out soon enough, either way. Draco's room was not that far from theirs, after all.

 

“How could you, Lucius?”, Narcissa's voice was dripping with disgust.

The man had at least the decency to look ashamed as he disentangled himself from his son's embrace, ignoring Draco's protests and attempts to hold him back.

The woman was shaking, her hand clasped on her mouth as she felt the bile rising in her throat, her face as pale as a ghost.

“Father, wai-”

“Stay out of this, Draco”, Lucius cut him off before he could finish, pulling up his pants and fastening them back on his body, the outline of his unspent erection still clearly visible through them.

“Have you gone insane? He's _your own son!_ ”, she screamed at him, her tears streaming down her face as she started sobbing. “You're a monster!”

“I know”, came Lucius's reply, his tone full of self-loathing, and yet unnervingly calm. “I've known for a long time, now”, he continued, his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. “That's why I couldn't bring myself to face you. How could you possibly understand?”.

“There's nothing to understand here!”, she yelled, running towards him and pummeling his chest with her fists. “How could you do this to him? How could you do this to _me?_ I've done everything I could to be patient! I don't deserve this! I hate you! _I hate you!_ ”

Draco flew at her to stop her, but Lucius pushed him back before grasping on his wife's wrists, pulling her against him and forcing her into an embrace, stroking her hair as she tensed up and struggled before falling limp against him, sobbing against his chest.

“I h-hate you...”, she repeated, sobbing so hard she could barely form words.

“Sshh, I know, darling, I know. I hate myself, too”, he whispered, his hands tight against her as if to prevent her from escaping, but she couldn't. She'd been waiting for so long to be embraced again by him like that, she couldn't bring herself to push him off, even after all that.

She hated him for what he had done to their family, she hated herself for not noticing sooner, she hated Draco for stealing him away from her.... but most of all, she hated that she still loved him, even in that moment. She hated the feel of that pressure against her groin, reminding her of his infidelity and of his perversion, and even then, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy and desire, her heart suddenly filled with regret at the thought of how she couldn't be enough to satisfy him anymore.

“Don't torture yourself over it, Narcissa. There's nothing you could have done”, Lucius told her. “It's not because of you, it's me. And Draco... Draco came to me and I couldn't... I wasn't strong enough to resist, and I can't... I can't hide from this anymore. I don't expect you to understand, or even to forgive me, but I can't let you take him away from me. He's all I have left.”

“It's not fair,” she cried, finally struggling away from his arms, walking away from him and staring at him with despair. “You've taken everything away from me!”

“I know”, he said, gravely. “I'm sorry”.

 

Narcissa couldn't face either of them again after that.

She stopped having breakfast with them, not trusting herself to not start crying all over her scrambled eggs if she had to look at her husband again, looking finally fulfilled and freed from his worries, but not for her, never for her again.

He had already moved his things away from his bedroom by the next day. She was secretly grateful to him for that, but she also couldn't help but fall down on her knees and weep at the sight of the half-empty room, all of his possessions suddenly gone.

She avoided the both of them as much as possible, especially Draco. She knew he shouldn't be the one she was resenting, but she couldn't help but feel that it was his fault if everything had come crashing down on them. She felt horribly guilty for her thoughts, as a mother, but as a woman she couldn't help but think that if it wasn't for him, Lucius's twisted feelings would never have pulled him away from her. If it wasn't for him, he still would have been hers.

She knew she should have done something to stop what was happening under her roof. She knew that by staying silent she was an accomplice in Lucius's crime, but she felt helpless to do anything at all. Lucius would never have let her take Draco away from him, and if he ever were to suspect she might snitch on him, she didn't dare to think of what he could do. She knew that if it came between sacrificing her or his son, he would not even hesitate.

That was the very thing that hurt her the most.

 

 

“I think you should leave”, came Draco's voice.

Narcissa raised her gaze from the bed, her mind foggy and pulsating in pain.

Her son walked up to her bed, carefully avoiding the minefield of Firewhiskey bottles littering the floor to go sit next to her.

“You're only going to make things worse if you stay here. For yourself... and for him”, he said, staring at her like she was nothing more than just an inconvenience in his eyes.

Of course. This was all for _him_. The woman narrowed his eyes at him, but didn't dare to say anything.

“He thinks this is your way of punishing him”, Draco continued, and Narcissa could hear the tinge of accusation in his voice.

“Maybe it is”, she spat out, feeling a slight satisfaction at the way Draco shuddered at her words.

“I won't let you hurt father”, he said, his voice cold and threatening as he leaned down towards her, his hand closing against her throat. He didn't tighten his grasp, only holding it there like a silent threat, but she could see it in his eyes. He had nothing but contempt for her.

She wished she could feel the same way towards him.

 

Narcissa looked back at the place she had called home, for so long she could barely remember a time when she hadn't done so.

Now it felt almost like she had been trapped into a dream – or rather, a nightmare – from which she was just starting to wake up.

She would leave them alone, with their madness. She knew they were going to be happier, that way.

She only wished she could say the same for herself.

 


End file.
